Inspiration
by Incomparable-Insanity
Summary: - On a boring summer's day, Draco finds himself doing calligraphy - but needs inspiration to actually make the mess seem like a masterpiece. - Harry/Draco. One-shot. Somewhat related to "Under A Mistletoe".


Okay. This 'fic is more or less in contrast with 'Under a Mistletoe'. But not really that related, they're just, ya know, "close" cause of that event and the reason why they're such ahem..good friends is cause of that Mistletoe thing. Lol. :D

Disclaimer : JK owns her boys.

- -

**Inspiration**

It was another silent and slow day in the Malfoy Manor. The inhabitants weren't there, the elders – the parents – weren't there and the only soul, not counting the house elves, who was currently inside and still snoozing was the only child of the couple. It was the first day of summer vacation (in preparation for his fifth year) and he took the opportunity to sleep in. His father was off doing 'ministry' business and his mother was out spending Galleons. So it's just a given that their only son would still be snoozing up until noon-time.

The sun barely penetrated the dark and thick curtains of the pale young boy still huddled in blankets. There was a knock on the door and a short, stout little house elf entered, it had bat-like ears and huge blue eyes, wearing a tea cozy. The it was a she and she scurried towards the large bed of the Malfoy heir. With scampering feet, trembling little hands and a shaking voice it snapped its fingers, the blanket flew back and a mildly loud bang was heard, "Y-young m-master must get up, sir. M-mistress asked Jinks to w-wake you up, y-young master." She said, stepping away.

Draco's eyes slowly opened as he propped himself onto his elbows and looked around, his gray eyes had that glossy look and he let out a yawn. His hair was tousled, not in its usual slick and smooth mode. He brought a hand up to his eyes and rubbed at them as the little elf scurried to the windows, she pulled them apart and sun instantly penetrated the large, dark room of the young master. Draco squinted his eyes and fell back onto his pillows, his arm covering his eyes.

"Young master must get up. Mistress said so." Jinks said her arms in the air.

"Yes, yes, now leave my room." Draco said, not in his usual drawl, his voice and thinking still hazed by sleep. He plopped back down onto his pillows and slept. Again.

Later that afternoon when he finally took the liberty to stand up, wash up and be prim and proper – or so his mother liked to say – he sat in their drawing room. He was looking out of the window which showed vast fields of green, the sky a bright blue. It was then that boredom hit him with the force of a stunning spell. He didn't know what to do because his plans were still for the next few days and he certainly didn't want to g around without the permission of his parents – Merlin only knows that they would kill him once he gets back. And he couldn't possibly do magic, because he'd get into trouble and probably get expelled. The moment was a more or less, give or take situation.

He sipped at his pumpkin juice and sank back into the comfortable cushions of the high-back chair. An idea slowly hit him, it wasn't like him to do such a thing but boredom got the worst of him and he snapped his fingers, the same house elf scurried after him, bowed down low and asked, "Y-yes, young master?" She inquired.

Draco told her about the things he needed and the elf, after a second – literally – hurried back to him with the desired things. A parchment, a paint brush and three bottles of ink, the first one black, the second red and the last green. He waved her off as he stood up, dusting his robes and looked around. He sat at one of the desks, unrolling the first roll of parchment and he took the paint brush – which was rather odd, he was used to using quills and the sort – and dipped it into the ink bottle with the color black.

He paused for a while, his paintbrush hovering at the top of the parchment when he heard the distant flapping of wings. He looked out of the window behind him and saw the beautiful snowy white owl of Harry Potter – now, he and Harry have never been _better_ friends since last term after that incident with the Mistletoe event last Christmas and what not. Draco got up from his chair and hurried – quite leisurely, that is, with elegance only Malfoy's could pull – to the window. He pulled it open and Hedwig landed on his shoulder, she gave him a nip on the air and hooted pleasurably. She then stuck her leg out for him and he took the small piece of parchment held closed by a silver ribbon. He read through it and, for probably the first time in the day, smiled. Hedwig flew off his shoulder as he scribbled his reply at the back of the parchment, he tied it to her leg and said, "There, now off." He said and the owl did so, flying into the skies once more.

Draco, after a minute, found himself sitting in the same armed chair, now writing. Calligraphy was hard and he had been at it for at least 30 minutes already. He tried writing his name and it came out as a mess, he tried writing Slytherin and it came out as a bigger mess, and he tried to trace down his family tree using his elegant scrip and _that_ didn't work any wonders. Now, huffing, his gray eyes squinted, he threw the brush and glared at the parchment, as if his glare would make his works – even out of boredom – become just plain brilliant.

He thought about the hasty reply he sent back for Harry and how long it would for the boy to get it. Wonders these things did for him. He groaned and a house elf hurried over to him and bowed down, a tray of tea and biscuit held on both her hands. Draco waved her off again and she placed the things in the table beside him, he took the cup of tea and sipped, yawning. Maybe he was better off sleeping. Maybe - -

But it was then that he heard the familiar sound a broom stick brought with it and then, seconds later he heard a familiar knock- or attempted knock. Goodness knows he was lucky his parents weren't home. He halted any of the house elves from opening the doors and he himself got up, wrenched them open and saw the black mass of untidy hair, green eyes behind those glasses. Harry was grinning sheepishly, his broomstick in hand, it seemed as if he couldn't get pass the barrier beyond the gates so Draco, with a tap of his wand, got them open. Not a second after he felt as if his ribs would crack with the intensity of the hug Harry had given him.

"H-Har-ry - - s-squish- - " He never got to finish as Harry's hold loosened around him, he did not let go so Draco wrapped his arms around him back.

"I just got out. Sorry to keep you waiting." Harry said wryly, now unlocking his hold on Draco and taking the boy's hand.

"I've been bored. Rather...very bored. Bloody hell, I've been bored out of my mind." Draco found talking and being in Harry's prescence to be comforting, he felt light and every time he was with him, all pretences and other things just fell.

Harry laughed silently and Draco tugged at his hand, their fingers interlaced, and led him into the Manor. Draco heard the boy say, under his breath, 'Bored? In this big place?'. Draco merely smiled at that and led him into the drawing room where Harry sat. He spotted the crumpled parchments and the blots of ink as well as the half-empty bottles and chortled, looking at a bemused Draco.

"So bored you'd try calligraphy?" Harry asked, "It's obvious. You're using a paint brush, aren't you?" Harry added after seeing the sceptical look on Draco's face.

"Well, yes. And let me tell you, it's a bloody mess." Draco said, his face flushing as he glared at the parchment again as well as the paint brush.

He felt Harry's arms wind around his waist, the boy's lips inches from his ear. "Well, that doesn't give you the option to quit. Even if you're truly horrible at it..." Draco flushed again, from irritation now, and whirled around, Harry was quick and unlocked his hold on the blond and locked them around once they were facing each other.

"Malfoys are good at everything they decide to pursue." Draco said haughtily, glaring into those emerald greens of Harry.

"Inspiration comes out when you least expect it," Harry said unexpectedly, he leaned forward and his lip met with the blond's. The kiss was soft and tender and he slowly broke off after a minute or so. "Now, why don't you try again?" Harry asked as Draco leaned forward for another kiss, he grinned through it and the blond boy nodded, now knowing that the outcome to his next 'attempt' wouldn't be a real mess.

- -

Augh. I don't really like this that much but I guess it came out good...? Meh.

Ohh...It's like...(what I said up above) somewhat connected to "Under a Mistletoe" or something. :D

And see? Draco still hates pieces of parchments and is starting to develop a growing detest for paintbrushes, like that quill he probably broke in half in the oter fic. Lol.


End file.
